


All Those Flowers at Your Feet

by LaCacciatrice



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, F/M, Post Reveal, character death takes place before this one shot, it's only mentioned here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 12:10:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15908004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaCacciatrice/pseuds/LaCacciatrice
Summary: She looked up at Chat Noir's face under her wet lashes, eyes tracing every detail as rain drops rolled down his cheeks slowly, desperate to memorize every part of his face. She had pictures of him at home, she had pictures of his face on her wall once. She's no stranger to this face. She spent so many nights of her teenage years looking at the posters of him on her wall. Yet, none of them, those pictures or posters, felt so real like this.She wanted to reach up, cupping his face in her hands like it's a treasure, most secret and valuable jewel in the world, and kiss him even if all she could feel is cold bronze instead of his smooth and warm skin under her soft lips.





	All Those Flowers at Your Feet

**Author's Note:**

> [VERY IMPORTANT]  
> I've not been in this fandom for so long. It's been, like, only 2 months maybe. My knowledge is very limited. I had no interest in this show until one of my friends dragged me into the hell and I can't get out lol Jokes aside, this is an incomplete story I'm sharing as a one shot. Since the beginning of my MLB journey, I've been planning an AU in my head. It's a very long AU taking place years after they captured Gabriel and Adrien took over his father's work (since the board only needs his signature) while studying astrophysics. LB and CN revealed their identities to each other after Papillon drama ended. They've been together for a while, they were living together. This particular scene takes place during the beginning of the second part of the series. In first part there's a huge crisis and LB and CN got separated while fighting alongside with OC heroes (there are not many and they're not very important to this one shot) and they went to different missions. CN sacrifices himself to make sure that LB's group have a chance to win the war however someone else's (another hero) mistake cost them dearily and villian succeeded. After he gets what he wants, he vanishes. LB is devastated, not only because CN's sacrifice was in vain and she lost her partner and lover but also because there's no one to fight now (and public thinks LB and CN disappeared during the crisis). But of course, in the second part (after this one shot) we see that's not the case. CN isn't technically dead (a bit complicated) and villian is not gone. That's all you need to know.
> 
> I don't want to give away so much because even though I say I'm never gonna write this long-ass AU, I might. One day. I still wanted to share this part because I love it for some unknown reason. 
> 
> Anyway, English is, like, my 3rd language or 4th so I'm not very good at it, I only self-studied for a couple of years. Most of my knowledge comes from twitter and tumblr interactions and my own curiosity. So you can imagine my language skills level lol I hope you don't mind my typos and grammar mistakes.

Despite the pouring rain, she found herself wandering around the city. Again. Why wouldn’t she? There wasn’t much to do. Not anymore. Her responsibilities faded away like the sun did as winter showed its face during this cold November day. Lately, she found herself wandering around a lot. Most of the time she didn’t even pay attention to her surroundings. And just like those days, today she only came to her senses when she realized she reached her destination. Maybe destination wasn’t the right word. It’s not like she was planning to come here. For the first couple of months, it was impossible to pass by here. During the days that she was able to leave her house despite her suffocating depression, she did everything in her power to avoid this place. But lately, all of her strolls ended up here. Like everything brought her to this place. 

She was standing in the middle of Place des Vosges. Under the darkened clouds and depressing sky, this place didn’t look any more cheerful than the rest of the city. People were quickly walking around her, around the square, to get somewhere. Like they always did. Every single person. Every day. Where were all those people trying to reach every single day? 

They didn’t pay her any attention. She was almost grateful. However, it wasn’t only she that people didn’t pay attention to. They also never spared a glance to the sculpture in the middle of the square. But of course, it didn’t mean that they don’t care. Because if you lower your eyes a little, you could see all those flowers left under the sculpture. There were so many of them. It was almost overwhelming. Every type, every colour, every shape. It was like a small mountain of flowers. But the city was not mourning their heroes. Those flowers weren’t left there due to sorrow. It was  _hope_. They were best wishes, not good-byes. 

She didn’t care about her dress. She was already soaking wet. She sat on one of the benches, her eyes never leaving the sculpture. It would shine so beautifully and brightly under the morning sun of a spring day. Marinette forced her memory to remember a day like that, to imagine seeing bright colours instead of this dull, dark and blue picture that became her life now. 

Something dragged her up to her feet. It hit her like a craving, like an old habit coming back to life forcefully. Like the desire to smoke again that comes years after quitting. Like a hypnotized puppet that an akumatized Manon would appreciate, she walked slowly toward the sculpture, her big blue eyes never leaving her target. Her steps were slow and well planned. She wasn’t in hurry. After all, just like her soul, the world around her was recently awakening again. 

People were trying to act normal, continue their daily lives even though the city around them was in shambles. Paris wasn’t completely destroyed like Trieste or Augsburg but cleaning an entire city while the rest of the world was in a similar situation and everyone was trying to recover from that traumatic experience was... hard. There were still ruins around the streets and the country was trying its damn hardest to fix every broken and destroyed driveway as soon as possible. Above all, there was this haunting feeling of fear. Fear of never seeing their heroes again. It’s been so long, many years, since Ladybug and Chat Noir showed their faces for the first time. Especially citizens of Paris were so used to feeling safe and sound that losing this sense of confidence and safety was frightening.  

So, instead of being out of their minds with worry, they tried to focus on simple tasks like keeping up with schedules and restoring the city. Because daily life was safe, habits were comfortable and easy. Acting like nothing happened was easier than facing the problem. It wasn’t surprising since this is how most people dealt with their problems, pains and troubles in the history of humankind. 

When she came as close as possible without ruining the small pile of flowers, she lowered herself to her knees, not caring about the mud covering her black stockings or dress. Her dark heels were already ruined by rain and dust. Her wet dark blue hair was plastered to her skin but she didn’t care as long as it wasn’t getting in her eyes. She was soaking wet. 

She lifted a shaky hand with a shiny, very expensive looking yet elegant engagement ring. Her hand slowly touched the marble stand, delicate fingers tracing the carved hero names on the surface. Her eyes lifted up, taking her time like it was a delicious warm meal that you could only enjoy once in your lifetime. 

She looked up at Chat Noir's face under her wet lashes, eyes tracing every detail as rain drops rolled down his cheeks slowly, desperate to memorize every part of his face. She had pictures of him at home, she had pictures of his face on her wall once. She's no stranger to this face. She spent so many nights of her teenage years looking at the posters of him on her wall. Yet, none of them, those pictures or posters, felt so real like this. She wanted to reach up, cupping his face in her hands like it's a treasure, most secret and valuable jewel in the world, and kiss him even if all she could feel is cold bronze instead of his smooth and warm skin under her soft lips.

Théo was a dedicated artist, always taking his time to renovate the sculpture as the heroes grew up. And his work was flawless. It was so well done that Chat Noir almost looked alive, with his playful smile and messy hair, ready to make a terrible cat pun and wink at the citizens before doing something reckless again. Yet, despite the perfection of his carving, there was something Théo couldn’t capture. There was something missing. Nothing, no one, no photo could capture the brightness of those shiny forest green eyes. Even as a teen with her childish crush, Marinette could write pages long love letters and poems to those eyes. And that’s what was missing. That’s why she kept coming back to here, hoping that one day Théo could manage to capture it. Because no photo at her home, their home, did justice to his eyes. 

Marinette’s lower lip trembled uncontrollably.  _Where are you_ , she thought desperately, almost begging in her mind.  _What happened to you? What did he do to you? What were you thinking at that last moment? Did you worry about me? Did you worry about what I would feel? Were scared to disappoint? Did you know... that your sacrifice was in vain?_

The last question hurt the most. More than losing him. More than not being there with him in his last moments. More than not knowing what happened to him. She didn’t really know how he died but Chat did a great sacrifice for all of them. For Marinette’s team. She knew that much. Yet they failed to honour it. It left her with shame and self-hatred. She was drowning in it. 

_Because they failed_. 

And when she thought about it, she wanted to punch something or let herself go finally. Because they were so close. She and Adrien. They were so close to happiness. They were in love with each other, so deeply so truly that her love felt so big for her little heart sometimes. They were finally together. They knew each other completely. They were chasing their dreams. Adrien was close to accepting his father, planning to visit him in jail before the crisis ruined their lives. His depression was still there sometimes but that was nothing a day-off spent on their cosy couch couldn’t solve. 

They were far away from Marinette’s three children and a hamster dreams but she didn’t care about that one any longer. She built new dreams top of that. And they were almost there. Almost living her ‘too good to be true’ dream. 

But now... He was gone. 

Forever.

And she was alone. So alone and lonely in her own mind. She wished they could be a bit more selfish sometimes. She wished Adrien was more selfish. But then again, would he be the man she loved so much if he was?

Knowing that the man she loved was a brave, selfless, sweet and caring person filled her with pride and more love toward him. But nothing, not even those feelings could change the dark cold space between her rib cages. She was shattered, too tired and numb to be totally broken but she felt empty. 

And she could never be the same again.

None of them could. 

“Girl?” A voice called from behind softly. It took so much effort to turning her gaze away from his pretty face. Her best friend, Alya, was standing five steps away from her with a black umbrella in her hand. An umbrella that awakened something so painful in her heart that she had to tear her eyes away from it and focused on her friend. She was dressed as sharp as ever. She looked calm and collected, like she always knew what she was doing. In short, she was everything Marinette wasn’t. 

“What are you doing here?” Alya asked worriedly. “You are soaking wet!” She stepped closer quickly and hold the umbrella high to cover them both. But Marinette didn’t answer. She just couldn’t. Her lower lip started trembling again. “You shouldn’t be here alone.” Alya added softly, noticing that the wetness of Marinette’s eyes had nothing to do with rain. 

“Oh, girl.” She breathed deeply. Her voice was strangely so soft, this kind of tone was only reserved for Marinette. “Is this about Adrien?” A soft smile, despite being a bit forced, appeared on her lips as a softer look took over her eyes. “Look, I’m sure he’s alright. You know the situation in Milan right now. Bourgeois already said that it will still take a couple of weeks to restore the connection with some of those cities. Even longer with oversea countries. So, it’s normal. And you know that crazy bodyguard of his. He wouldn’t let anything happen to Mr. Sunshine.” She reached forward and touched Marinette’s shoulder with her right hand. “I am sure he feels equally desperate to contact you right now.” 

It was easy for Alya to utter those words. It felt like a memorized speech that she gave to Nino, and herself, time to time. If you tell yourself and others something so many times, you will start to believe it as well. Even her forced smile was like a muscle memory now. 

But even though this speech worked for Nino and herself, it had the exact opposite effect on Mari. Her shattered heart broke like the dam doors and her tears flowed like a river all of a sudden.

“I can’t do this anymore.” She chocked finally, after being so quiet for so long. Her lips trembled harder as she tried to stop herself from crying like a mess on the ground.

“You can’t do what?” Alya asked worriedly. Her hand on Marinette’s shoulder tightened. “Girl.” She said firmly. “You can’t do what?”

Marinette lifted her head higher and looked right into her oldest friend’s eyes. She could barely make out Alya’s expression due to tears filled eyes. 

“It’s me.” Her voice sounded more grounded this time. “It’s always been me.” Alya lifted an eyebrow, not quite understanding her best friend. “The one you were chasing all this time.” Alya frowned at her words.

“The one... I was chasing?” She asked carefully, trying to make sense of her words. But as soon as she repeated those words, her eyes grew bigger. She hesitantly looked at the sculpture first and then at Marinette again. “No.” Her voice wasn’t louder than whisper. “It’s you.”

“It’s me.” She confirmed, looking right into her eyes with a sudden calmness. 

“You’re the Ladybug.” She whispered even though no one could hear them when rain poured down on the city like that. 

“Yes.” Marinette’s answer was barely a whisper. “It’s me. And I can’t do this anymore. **”** Her shaky hands were lifted up to her dark blue hair with a pained expression on her face. “Because it’s unbearable to sit there and pretend like I know nothing. Because it’s insufferable to listen everyone muttering silly comforting words to me and pretend like there’s still hope when I know there isn’t any. I can’t stand there anymore as people tell me Adrien is probably okay and he will come back to me one day when I know... he won’t. He’s not coming back. He’s gone. I know that. I felt it.” Alya looked at her with big hazel eyes as her friend’s body shook with tears. She was shaken beyond words. But she didn’t need to say anything. It was finally Marinette’s turn to speak. Finally, someone knew her secret and now that she could speak, there was no way she could stop.

“He was there, you know. He was there, in Pitigliano with Matteo. He wanted to slow down Kadmos and tried to make sure that I could save everyone but—But it all backfired when Fachnan didn’t follow the plan. And now,” Marinette looked down at her empty eyes, “he’s gone. Adrien is gone.” She lifted her head up to look at Alya. “And he’s not coming back.” She tried to take a deep breath to calm herself down. Despite being shaken, Alya was still a damn good reporter. She frowned and asked one question she was dying to understand.

“Why was he there?! Wasn’t he supposed to be in Milan? Chat Noir especially warned us about—” Her own lips started to tremble as she questioned her friend, begging for Marinette to be wrong asthe truth hit her like a train. Her eyes grew even bigger than before as she drew back in horror. She looked up at the sculpture that reached toward the sky. But this time, her eyes didn’t focus on the Ladybug. Her hazel eyes traced the similar features of Chat Noir. She looked at this sculpture so many times before, admired her heroes freely. But this time, she was looking at them for a completely different reason. 

There was a time back in collège when Alya believed for a couple of days that Adrien Agreste could be Chat Noir. She was so desperate and excited to be right back then, she was craving to uncover their identities after all. 

She never wanted to be wrong more in her entire life. 

 “Oh.” She mumbled. Her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, no.”

“You know Chat Noir and Ladybug are missing since the crisis.” Marinette told her. “People are hoping they would come back but... But here I am. And I can do nothing! No Miraculous Cure can fix this mess.” She buried her face into Alya’s jacket as she wrapped her arms around other girl’s waist. Alya buried her hands in Marinette’s wet hair, umbrella dropped down and long forgotten. Marinette sobbed harder. “He’s gone and so is Kadmos. I’m here but there is no fight to win. This is what I know. I know how to fight. But there is no one to fight now. It’s all gone. And without a fight, I don’t know how to be Ladybug.” Alya leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

“And I lie to myself, every day, I say I don’t know why I keep coming back here.” She closed her eyes tightly. “I say, stop it, it’s over. He’s gone, you felt him die. You felt your bond snap.” She choked on her words, crushed under her own sorrow and pain.  “But I can’t help it. He promised. He promised we would meet here when he gets back. And he always kept his promises. Always.”

Alya’s arms around her tightened.

“Oh, girl. Mari. Oh, you poor, selfless kids.” 

There was nothing left to say. Nothing left to ask. So Alya let Mari cry her heart out. Everything else could wait.

And they stood there for a long time, two young women crying shamelessly under the pouring rain, feeling lost and found at the same time. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. I'm lanthimo on tumblr.


End file.
